White rice with tomato stew. Jellof rice with the little vegetables we had left in the fridge. Rice with eggs. And these have been repeated. Honestly, it’s been fun until it got boring lol—almost like a mini food challenge without even planning it.

Of course, there were days we switched things up. The day I made Khoki was a highlight—no rice in sight. Just that beautiful pudding that we ate with cassava. Another day, I paired cabbage with fufu and meat sauce with baton de manioc, and it felt like a proper break from the rice streak.

The Budget Tip That’s Helping Me Stretch My Money During Tight Financial Periods

What this does for me:

• Saves money—I’m not spending on things we don’t urgently need.

• Reduces waste—I’m actually eating what I’ve already bought.

• Boosts creativity—I end up trying new combinations I wouldn’t have thought of.

So I’m dropping these here — not as a perfect recap, but more like a gentle photo dump with a few reflections along the way.

Getting Back to Moving My Body

One thing I’m proud of this past month is that I started working out again — not perfectly, but consistently.

I’ve mostly been doing what I enjoy: dancing, and lifting weights, I made myself using sand, wrapped in plastic and cloth. Homemade, but effective. It feels good to move again. I’m not chasing a perfect body. I just want to feel strong, light, and more in tune with myself.

Meals That Made Me Smile

I cooked some meals in July that honestly made me happy—and my kids too.

• I made cornchaff, one of my favorites.

• Then came stewed cabbage, which surprised me because the kids loved it more than I expected.

• And maybe my favorite of all — khoki in teacups. I didn’t have leaves, so I improvised, and the way those cups looked sitting in the pot? Just beautiful. It made me feel creative and grounded at the same time.

😋😋 This Khoki was so good.

There's a recipe for Khoki on the blog, but that recipe was made in leaves. The process is the same, just that I put this one in cups. Please refrain from using plastic cups or any other plastic items for this. It's not healthy.

How to Cook Your Own Khoki Beans

How To Cook Khoki Beans Recipe With Cocoyam Leaves In It

I just had to share this picture of the cups before I put the plantain because it looked so good.

Cornchaff I made from fresh corn, by the way.

Related post: Cornchaff (Corn and Beans) Recipe | Cameroonian Recipe

Stewed cabbage and plantain

I didn’t bake a cake this month though. The kids asked for one a few times — and yes, the guilt came in small waves — but hopefully I’ll bake one in August. Sometimes, you just don’t get to everything. That’s okay.

Back to Simple Beauty Product

Something small but special I reconnected with in July was glycerine.
I had almost forgotten how good it is for my skin. I started using it again a few months ago, and in July I bought a second, bigger container—and it just reminded me how well it works for me. Hydrating, simple, and effective. I’ll write more about it in another post, but it felt worth noting here.

It’s funny how sometimes your old routines are the ones that still serve you best.

Snake Plants Having Babies

My snake plants have been growing—they’ve had babies. New shoots are coming out of the soil like little green signs that something underneath is doing well.

It feels so good to see more babies sprout from the pot. My plants must be happy.

My Phone Bugging

Another small but meaningful thing — my phone started acting up. It got really slow. Notifications stopped coming through. I’d get messages hours later. It was frustrating.

It all started after I downloaded a lot of YouTube videos to watch offline. I’d been downloading so much but barely deleting. And suddenly, my phone was just… tired.

But I’ve started deleting. I had to actually delete a lot of things and back up photos and videos. That way I don't lose much in case of anything. I've had this phone for five years, and I think it's time to get a new one.

August Started on Quite a Note

Now this part technically happened in August, but since it’s part of the flow, I’m adding it here.

The new month started with a bit of activity. I repotted my snake plants, especially because they’ve been growing new babies and needed more space. It felt like a small reset—like helping something thrive by giving it just a little more room.

But here’s the twist—while I was busy doing that, my snail escaped.

I had temporarily moved it out of its usual container while I used it for the plant, thinking I’d figure out a better home for it later. Before I could, it was gone.

I felt bad at first. But then, strangely, I felt… relief.
I didn’t realize how much energy I was putting into taking care of that little thing. It wasn’t heavy, but the moment it was gone, I could feel a little space open up in me.

I still love snails, and I might keep one again. But for now, I’m okay with the break.

Lessons From July I’m Holding Onto 

• On Clarity, Fog, and Moving Anyway

  One thing I’m learning lately is that clarity doesn’t always hit like lightning.
  I used to wait for those big “aha” moments — a full vision, a full plan, a loud sign. But I’m realizing that clarity often comes quietly.

  These days, it’s showing up in little pieces.
  A passing thought.
  A journal line.
  A random idea that makes sense later.

  Some days still feel foggy. Like I’m moving but not exactly sure where it’s all leading. But I’ve stopped fighting that. I’m learning to move with the fog — to trust that I don’t have to see the full picture to take the next small step.

  Even misty mornings still move you forward.

  And that’s what this season feels like for me — not stuck, just slowly shifting forward. Quietly coming back to myself, my work, my voice. Little by little. Bit by bit. And that’s more than enough right now.

• On Love, Boundaries, and Choosing Myself

  Another thing I’ve been thinking about is love. Not in a dramatic way—just quiet lessons I’m picking up on.

  And one thing that’s become so clear is that men are so good at choosing themselves.

  If something doesn’t sit well with them, they don’t overthink it. Even if they love you, the moment the situation doesn’t feel right to them, they can drop it, walk away, and move on.

  Women? We tend to hold on longer. Try harder. Compromise more. Even when we don’t feel comfortable, we try to adjust. We want to make it work.

  But this month I told myself—no more of that.
  If it doesn’t feel right, I’m allowed to choose me. Fully. Without guilt. I’m allowed to walk away from love if that love doesn’t hold me gently. That’s the kind of woman I’m becoming. And I’m proud of that.

So yeah, July was…

Simple.
Quiet.
Not rushed.

There were no big highlights, but there were moments that mattered.

If you’re in a season like this too—peaceful but not perfect—I hope this reminds you that life is still happening. And it’s okay if your photo dumps are full of soft, small things. That’s where so much of the beauty hides.

It’s been a while since I sat down to write something just for the sake of sharing what’s been going on — and that’s what today’s post is. A little life update, a little check-in, and a soft beginning to something new.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed about the next step in my blogging journey. I recently cleared out my drafts — a fresh start — so I can begin a new wave of posts. It’s exciting, and honestly, a little scary too. I’ve been wondering: Will you like the new content? Will it still connect the way it used to?

At the same time, I’ve also been thinking (and overthinking) about something else that’s been on my heart — my business, Ngumi’s.
It’s been a while since I ran it actively, and though I’ve been wanting to restart, I keep getting stuck on the what-ifs.
What if I don’t sell? What if it’s not received well?
I know these feelings are normal, especially after a pause, but they’ve been sitting heavy on me and slowing me down more than I’d like.

But this is me pushing through it — even just by writing this post.
This is the first post in the new rhythm I’m creating for this blog.
Like I mentioned in an earlier post, I’m going back to how we used to blog a few years ago — when we simply wrote from the heart, shared our lives as they were, and connected through the little things.

This space is returning to that — a blend of lifestyle and life lessons.
Content that feels like a chat with a friend. Sometimes entertaining, sometimes helpful. Sometimes soft and reflective. Other times, just vibes and a recipe. Because I know that’s how we really consume content — to learn, to feel seen, or to simply escape and breathe.

So here’s to a new week.
I’m hoping for less overwhelm, more flow, and the courage to start again — with blogging, with business, and with everything else in between.

Wherever you are, I hope your week feels kind to you.
Sending softness your way 🌸

Love,
Ngumabi

Things I’ve Learned From Moving Multiple Times

I’ve moved several times over the past few years. Not because I love the process—it’s stressful, emotional, and exhausting—but because life has taken me through different seasons that required different spaces. Some moves were planned. Some were forced. Some were healing. Others were freeing. But every move taught me something new about life, independence, and myself.

Looking back, I now realize every move carries its own story. And no two moves are ever the same.

Here are some of the things I’ve learned through all my moves—and maybe, if you’re going through a change or considering one, this will help you make sense of your own journey too.

1. The Reason You Move Shapes the Way You Feel

Each move comes with its own emotion. I’ve moved out of survival, I’ve moved out of freedom, I’ve moved out of exhaustion, and I’ve moved out of hope.

Leaving the apartment I shared with my ex was painful but necessary. That move came with fear, urgency, and heartbreak—but also courage. The apartment I moved into next became a refuge. It saw me cry, heal, scream, hope again, and rebuild my confidence after everything I lost in that relationship.

Now, moving out of that healing apartment felt completely different. It wasn’t about escaping anymore—it was about growth. The mold on the walls, the noise from the road, and the discomfort of the space made it hard to stay, even though a part of me was emotionally attached to the history within those walls.

I’ve learned not to expect every move to feel the same. Sometimes you’ll feel relieved. Sometimes you’ll cry more than you expected. And both are okay.

2. Some Homes Are Meant for a Season—And That’s Okay

I used to believe that once I found a place, I would stay there for five years minimum. I longed for that kind of stability. And I still do. But reality has shown me that some spaces are not meant to be permanent—they are meant to carry you through a certain phase of your life.

Maybe they’re not perfect. Maybe they’re temporary. But they hold you when you need them most. They serve a purpose. And when that purpose is fulfilled, it’s okay to let go.

The house that sheltered your healing may not be the one that sees your flourishing. It’s not a failure—it’s a shift.

3. Moving Out Is Not Just a Physical Act—It’s an Emotional One

When you’ve cried in a room, laughed in a kitchen, prayed in a corner, or danced in your living room, it becomes more than just a building. That space starts to hold pieces of your story.

And when it’s time to go, it can feel like you’re leaving behind a version of yourself. I felt this deeply in my recent move. I wasn’t just saying goodbye to an apartment—I was saying goodbye to the woman who first entered it two years ago, broken and afraid. And I was proud of the woman who was walking out—healed, stronger, and more grounded.

So don’t be surprised if you feel heavy when leaving a space. Closure is not only for relationships—it’s also for homes that held you.

4. You Will Lose Things—And That’s Part of the Journey

Each time I move, I lose something. Sometimes it’s physical—plates, clothes, or a piece of furniture that just doesn’t fit anymore. But other times, it’s emotional. I lose attachments, old habits, or outdated versions of myself.

Some things I thought I couldn’t live without suddenly have no place in my new home. And other things I never valued before become precious.

Moving teaches you about what truly matters.
What’s useful, what’s clutter, and what needs to be released.

5. The Next Place Is a Blank Canvas—Let Yourself Explore It

Here’s the thing about moving into a new home: no matter how ready or excited you are, you don’t really know what it will feel like until you live in it.

Every new apartment or house comes with a fresh energy, and you get to define what that energy becomes. You’re not just arranging furniture—you’re planting seeds for a new season.

You won’t have all the answers on day one. And that’s okay. Let yourself settle slowly. Let the space grow on you. Let it reflect who you are now, not who you used to be.

6. Moving Teaches You About Yourself

With every move, I’ve learned to listen to myself more. To recognize when I’m forcing something. To trust when I feel peace. To let go even when I don’t have a full plan.

I’ve learned that I value quiet. Privacy. Light. View. Safety. I’ve learned that I want to live where I can hear birds in the morning, not cars honking at dawn.

I’ve also learned that I can do hard things. That I’m resourceful, that I can ask for help, and that I can rebuild from scratch—again and again, if I need to.

7. You’re Allowed to Feel It All

The mix of emotions during a move is real. Relief. Anxiety. Excitement. Nostalgia. Even fear. Don’t feel guilty for being emotional. And don’t rush to feel “settled” right away.

Take your time.
Feel the sadness of leaving, and the hope of entering.
Honor your process.

Let Every Move Be a Milestone, Not Just a Moment

If you’ve moved a lot like I have, you may feel tired. You may long for roots. But you can also see it as proof of how far you’ve come. Each move marks a shift in your journey, a moment when you chose to take action—either to survive, to heal, or to grow.

Let each move remind you that you are still in motion. That life is unfolding. That you’re not stuck. And that every time you move, you get closer to becoming the woman you were always meant to be.

So here’s to the places that held us.
Here’s to the ones we outgrew.
And here’s to the ones still waiting to be filled with laughter, light, and new beginnings.

If you’ve moved homes more than once in your life, then you probably know no two moves are the same.

Sometimes we move because we have to. Other times, because we want to. And then there are those moments—like mine—when a move is both sudden and deeply symbolic.

A few weeks ago, I moved into a new apartment in Yaoundé. It wasn’t something I had planned for that specific month, but deep down, I had been preparing myself for it. There had been signs for months: the growing discomfort in my old space, the mold creeping through the walls from unfinished construction, and the noise from the road just outside my window. But it wasn’t just the building. I had simply outgrown the space, emotionally and mentally.

The Apartment That Carried My Healing

Before this new place, I lived in what I often called my “refuge apartment.” It was the space I moved into after leaving a toxic relationship—a place that represented safety and survival. That apartment saw me through some of my darkest days.

There were tears, regret-filled nights, moments of complete numbness, and early mornings when all I had was faith and determination. There were heated phone calls, days of silence, bursts of courage, shame, and those proud, quiet victories when I could finally smile again at my own reflection.

So even though the walls were starting to leak and mold, and even though I knew I needed better, saying goodbye wasn’t as easy as I expected.

Letting Go Was Harder Than I Thought

Letting go of a space that held your worst and best moments can be deeply emotional. That apartment gave me warmth, comfort, and room to rebuild when I needed it the most. It was never perfect, but it served its purpose. It was my cocoon, and walking away from it felt like shedding old skin. Necessary, but bittersweet.

I realised something important:

We don’t just leave buildings. We leave behind stories, chapters, and versions of ourselves.

Every Move Comes With a Lesson

Over the years—and especially with this recent move—I’ve learned a lot about apartment hunting in Yaoundé. Things like:

• Always vet the neighbourhood first: proximity to the road is good, but too much noise can wear you down.

• Watch out for unfinished buildings—they can bring long-term issues like water leaking into walls and mold.

• Know your non-negotiables: A big kitchen? Natural light? Calm environment? Don’t compromise on the things that truly matter to your peace.

• Some houses fit a season in your life, not a lifetime. And that’s okay.

This time, I knew I needed a calmer space, better light, and a neighbourhood with more peace. I had to stretch myself to find it in a short time, but thank God, I did.

Stepping Into the Unknown With Faith

The first few nights in my new place felt surreal. It was quieter. I could hear birds in the morning—something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. It felt unfamiliar, but right.

I’ve started a new morning routine here—slow, peaceful, and intentional. I wake up feeling more centered, more present. It’s as though the space is inviting me into a new version of myself: softer, surer, ready.

I’ve also started looking at the things I brought with me differently. Some items no longer fit the new space or season of my life, and that’s okay too. You realize that in every move, you’ll lose a few things, gain a few, and repurpose others, just like in life.

My Favourite Things About My New Apartment

I haven’t done a full tour yet (but it’s coming soon on the blog and YouTube!), but I can already tell you what I love:

• The view. It's not grand, but it brings calm.

• The privacy. There are no shops in the compound this time—just peace and quiet.

• The sense of "new". The feeling that I get to recreate myself again here.

Growth Happens in Transitions

This move reminded me that growth isn’t always loud or dramatic. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet act of leaving a place that once held your broken pieces and walking into a new space with hope, even when you're unsure.

If you’re in a season of transition, moving homes, or just thinking of starting over in any way, I want to tell you this:

Every move teaches you something. Every space leaves a mark. And every new place gives you the chance to start again—with more wisdom, more clarity, and more strength.

Thanks for being part of my journey. I’ll share more soon—about setting up, creating routines, decorating on a budget, and finding beauty in the everyday.

Until then, here’s to new beginnings, healing walls, and homes that reflect the best version of who we are becoming.

Finding Rhythm in a New Space

   

Life update from the new apartment

It’s been a few weeks since we moved, and life has been slowly settling into a new rhythm. Not perfect. Not structured. But soft and present.

Most of the unpacking is done, and the apartment is beginning to feel like us. The only space still holding a bit of chaos is the room I plan to use as my office. The things are in there, but the organisation? We’re not there yet. And that’s okay. One thing at a time.

Honestly, adjusting to a new environment takes more energy than I remember. I’ve been trying to get consistent with work, but many days, I’m tired. Some days, just getting through the house chores is enough to leave me feeling drained. There’s been a strong desire to rest, and I’m learning to honour that without guilt. My body knows when it’s time to pause.

But even in this quiet season, life has been happening gently and beautifully.

My plants are doing so well. Some that had been living in water finally got potted, and my snake plant even made babies! The joy I felt when I saw that tiny bud growing at the side of the plant, I can’t even explain. It was the most ordinary magic. A reminder that growth always finds its way, even in new soil.

I’ve filmed two YouTube videos since moving in, and while I’ve definitely been filming less, I understand why. There’s something sacred about simply being in the moment without interrupting it to create content. I’ve allowed myself that, and now I’m slowly picking the rhythm back up again. I’m editing a new video and getting excited about creating again, but this time, with more presence and less pressure.

I’ve also returned to making conscious efforts toward weight loss like intermittent fasting, moving my body, and being intentional again. It feels good to be reclaiming that part of myself, softly and sustainably.

And of course, the kitchen! I’ve baked twice already in this new house, and the cakes turned out so beautifully. Baking feels like home to me, and this new kitchen is already holding sweet memories. I’ve also started sharing our house-hunting journey in Yaoundé on my blog and social media, and I’ll be posting more updates on that this month.

There’s still so much to do. So much to figure out. But I’m giving myself permission to ease into it. Not everything has to happen at once. And sometimes, simply showing up, living, resting, and celebrating tiny wins like snake plant babies and well-baked cakes—is more than enough.

Here’s to new spaces, new rhythms, and the gentle days after a big change. 💛

Watch my latest video showing a glimpse of life lately where I also show you how I budget and loss e competition. 

 #ᴊᴜɴᴇᴅᴜᴍᴘ 2025 | Ngumabi 

I’ve moved several times within Yaoundé in the past few years. Some moves were for healing, others were for peace, others were out of necessity. But each time, I’ve learned something new about the apartment hunt in this city—and today I want to share those lessons with you.

Here’s what to consider, avoid, and stay aware of when apartment hunting in Yaoundé:

Apartment Hunting in Yaoundé: What to Expect and What to Avoid —Lessons from my personal experience

1. Start with the Right Neighbourhood for YOU

Before even stepping into any apartment, ask yourself what you want your life to look like—not just your living room.

Think about:

• Proximity to work or school

• Access to the main road or transportation

• Availability of essential services like water, electricity, hospitals, markets, and shops

• Calmness vs. activity (do you love quiet or prefer some daily buzz?)

Every neighbourhood in Yaoundé has its own energy and level of development. Some are very residential and calm; others are lively but noisy. Some areas are great for access but prone to issues like flooding or blackouts. Know what matters to you first.

2. Know Your Apartment Criteria (Negotiables & Non-Negotiables)

When you’re house-hunting, you won’t always get everything you want, but knowing your priorities helps you avoid disappointment or discomfort later.

Some examples to reflect on:

• Do you want a spacious kitchen because you cook a lot and own many utensils?

• Is natural light important to you?

• Do you want a balcony or outside space?

• Can you compromise on a smaller bedroom if the living room is big enough?

• Do you prefer modern fittings?

Having a clear list of what you must have vs. what you can manage without will help you make better and quick decisions, especially when under pressure.

3. Understand That What You Want May Not Fully Exist

This one might sound a little contradictory, but it’s real. Yaoundé is a mix of old and new construction styles. Older neighborhoods often have buildings that were built decades ago, with older standards in terms of layout, finishes, or aesthetics.

In newer or upcoming neighbourhoods—usually on the outskirts—you’ll find more modern features like:

• Spacious kitchens and bathrooms

• Bigger windows

• Better tiles and paintwork

• Improved room configurations

However, these places may be farther from the city center, more expensive, or less developed in terms of access roads and public services. And if you find a modern house in an older neighbourhood, it often comes with a higher price tag.

Moral of the story: Stay open-minded, flexible, and ready to compromise on the less essential things.

4. Vet the Neighbourhood Thoroughly

One of the most underrated yet important aspects of house hunting in Yaoundé is evaluating the environment surrounding the apartment, not just the building.

Here’s what to look out for:

• Flood risk: Yaoundé is a hilly city. Areas near valleys are more prone to floods. Avoid houses in low-lying zones, especially during rainy seasons.

• Electricity & water reliability: Some areas experience more power cuts, others have more water shortages. Ask the neighbours what’s common.

• Noise & security: Visit during the day and in the evening. Some areas are quiet by day but noisy at night due to nearby bars or clubs.

• Safety: Avoid suspicious areas or compounds. Check if the neighbourhood has a security presence (some areas near top officials’ homes are better protected).

And if you can, walk around the neighbourhood. Observe the people, the traffic, and the atmosphere. Can you see yourself living there? Do you feel at peace?

5. Do a Careful Check of the Building Itself

Some things I’ve learned the hard way:

• Uncompleted buildings may have construction issues like water leaking into the walls, which leads to mold and dampness (and even health problems).

• Buildings that look good at first glance may still have structural or plumbing issues. Inspect carefully—especially during rainy season.

• If the landlord lives in the same compound, get as much information as you can. If they’re the “monitor everything you do” type, life may get uncomfortable.

Talk to tenants if you can. Ask questions like:

• How often do they fix things?

• How are electricity and water bills partitioned? Are there individual meters?

• What’s the landlord like?

• Do they increase rent suddenly?

Also, read your contract carefully and ask for clarification if something doesn’t sit right with you.

6. Accessibility and Social Amenities

Your new home should not feel like a trap or an isolated island, except you have a car for easy transportation.

Basic services you should look for nearby:

• Provision store (for bread, sugar, milk, toilet paper, oil, etc.)

• Pharmacy or clinic

• Market or food stalls (even small ones)

• Transport options (bike, taxi, junctions)

If your house is inside an interior zone where you need to take a bike or walk a distance to the main road, and it’s a quiet or isolated area, I strongly recommend this:

Get the contact of a trustworthy bike rider or taxi driver who works around your neighbourhood. Call them when transport is scarce, or when you need to get out early/late. It makes it easy for you to go out and come in easily and faster when you don't get a bike/taxi at the time you are going out or coming in.

7. Every Move Teaches You Something

The more I move, the more I learn. I’ve learned to be realistic. I’ve learned not to rush when I have time. And I’ve also learned that sometimes, no matter how much you plan, the right apartment only shows up when it’s time.

So give yourself grace. Don’t feel pressured to find “the perfect place.” Focus on finding a safe, livable, and peaceful environment that matches your needs as best as possible.

House hunting in Yaoundé isn’t always easy, but with the right mindset, preparation, and awareness, you can avoid many of the common pitfalls. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, walk around, or even say no if something feels off.

And most importantly, remember that your home should give you peace. That’s worth waiting for and searching for, except you don't have much time to find the best place.

I recently moved out of the apartment I had stayed in for two years. It was a sudden move, but also one I had quietly been expecting. Not necessarily because I was ready, but because I knew, deep down, that the time would come.

And it came faster than I thought.

This wasn’t my first time moving. I’ve moved quite a bit in the past few years, and honestly, I usually prefer to stay in a home for at least five years before changing. I like stability, peace, and knowing I can settle in fully. But life doesn’t always give us ideal situations. Sometimes you have to move before you’re fully ready, and that was the case with this apartment, just like the one before it.

The difference is this: this last apartment wasn’t just a place I stayed. It was the place that held me while I healed.

The Apartment That Saw Me Break and Rise Again

I moved into that apartment after leaving a toxic relationship. I didn’t have the luxury of time or too many choices. I just needed a place—quickly. And somehow, God made a way.

That apartment wasn’t perfect. It was too close to the road, it got noisy, and over time, water started getting into the walls. But it gave me what I needed at that time: safety, privacy, and space to start over.

Those walls witnessed some of my lowest moments. They heard the silent tears, the angry phone calls, the painful regrets, the confusing numbness, and the heavy loneliness that followed my decision to leave. But they also saw my strength build up, day by day. They saw me find myself again. They saw me slowly walk out of fear, shame, and guilt, and into courage, boldness, and peace.

They saw me laugh again. Dream again. Believe again.

So yes, even though the apartment had become physically uncomfortable to live in—the mold, the water, the noise—emotionally, it was hard to leave. Because that house had been part of my healing. That space held a version of me I had fought so hard to rebuild.

And moving out felt like closing the chapter on a very personal season of my life.

How to Emotionally Prepare for a Big Move From a Place That Held Your Healing

If you’re about to move out of a space that has been with you through tough, defining seasons, here are a few things I’ve learned through experience:

1. Acknowledge the Role That Space Played in Your Life

It’s okay to feel sad or heavy, even when you know it’s time to move. Just because you’re leaving doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful. Take a moment to acknowledge what that place gave you.

Say thank you to the walls, the rooms, the quiet, the chaos, the view, the comfort. Thank it for what it carried you through. Gratitude helps you to leave in peace.

2. Grieve the Goodbye—It’s Not Just a House, It’s a Part of Your Story

You’re not just moving from a building. You’re moving from memories. From growth. From pain. From healing. Let yourself feel it.

It’s okay to cry while packing. To sit on the floor and remember. To walk through each room and whisper goodbye. Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting—it means honoring what was and allowing space for what’s next.

3. Understand That Healing Happens in Seasons—and So Do Spaces

Some spaces are meant for certain seasons. They serve their purpose and prepare you for what’s next. But when that season shifts, the space may no longer match the version of you that’s emerging.

That’s how I knew it was time. The moldy walls, the road noise, the restless sleep—it no longer aligned with the peace I now carried inside. The space had become too small for the woman I was becoming.

4. Let the Move Symbolize Your Growth

Instead of only seeing the move as a loss, try to see it as a symbol. A symbol that you’ve grown. That you’re moving forward. That you’re not the same version of yourself who moved in.

You’re stronger now. Wiser. More in tune with what you need and what you no longer want to tolerate. Your move is a reflection of that.

5. Take One Last Moment to Reflect Before You Leave

Before leaving, I stood quietly in that apartment. I didn’t rush. I let the silence speak. I remembered where I had come from. I felt the weight of everything I had survived.

I said goodbye, not just to the walls, but to the version of myself who had once lived there—the hurt girl, the scared girl, the one who cried and doubted and fought. I honored her.

Then I walked out with confidence. Because she brought me this far.

Moving Isn’t Just About a New Address

It’s about closing one chapter and opening another. It’s about being brave enough to walk away from what no longer fits you, even if it once saved you. And it’s about trusting that what’s ahead will be even better.

If you’re standing on the edge of a move like this—emotional, sudden, maybe even overwhelming—I want you to know: it’s okay to feel everything. But also know you’re moving forward. You’re not who you were when you moved in. And that, in itself, is something to be proud of.

You deserve a space that reflects your peace, your growth, and the future you’re stepping into.
Let go with love. Move forward with grace.